


Starved

by GraceRB



Category: Supernatural
Genre: A little angst, Bisexual Dean Winchester, College Sam, Crushing on you, Dating, Embarrassed Dean, Gay Castiel (Supernatural), Homeless Castiel, Human Dean, It's cute not sad, M/M, Mechanic Dean, Mostly Fluff, Shy Dean, Slow Burn, Speechless Dean, establishing a relationship, human cas, not sad I promise, okay its a little sad, slow going, touch starved
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:00:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27892714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GraceRB/pseuds/GraceRB
Summary: Machinery has always made sense. People, not so much. Dean tolerates people.But there's this guy Dean can't stop thinking about. And Dean wants to make sense of him. When did he start caring about people?
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 18
Kudos: 48





	1. The Exception

**Author's Note:**

> So, before we begin, I just wanted to say I wrote this in the present tense, so anything in past tense is not a mistake. It's the stuff from the past. 
> 
> Also, Sam is in his first year of college, and he's 18. Dean is 22. Castiel is 26. It's not super important, but I always like to know what their ages are in fic like these. 
> 
> I don't know how many chapters there will be yet, but I want to post one a week for now. It might be a little more than that, maybe less -- I'm not super consistent, so apologies in advance!
> 
> Lastly, if you find any mistakes or anything like that, please comment!! I appreciate your kudos, comments, bookmarks, y'know, the works. Thank you, and have a wonderful day/night.

Machinery has always made sense. People, not so much. Dean is always getting yelled at by customers, when really he is giving them the easiest option to help their cars in the long run. He tries not to get annoyed.

Dean tolerates people.

He works at Singer’s Salvage, where the pay is good and the boss, Bobby, has got to be one of the most caring people Dean’s ever met. Bobby is one of the better people. 

The other person Dean actually likes to be around is his younger brother, Sam. They were lucky, as kids, when they jumped from foster home to foster home because no one ever tried to separate them. They only had each other for so many years, and while Sam flourished, becoming social and quite extraverted, Dean sank back into himself. 

He didn’t really make friends, didn’t really talk much -- he went to parties with Sam, usually just tagging along, but people always gave him anxiety. 

Girls always chased after him, too, so he gave them what they wanted but they never gave him anything in return. He felt used and alone.  Dean grew up sort of touch starved -- the hook ups helped -- but Dean never really felt satisfied. Nothing was really for him and he didn’t like that. He never really felt deserving enough to try to change it, though. 

So he putters around Bobby’s scrapyard, looking for something to do during his lunch break. Dean avoids any people he sees -- which is always very rare, seeing people milling around -- and looks for a car to fix. Something to distract from the past. He doesn’t want to think about it anymore.

He found that his auto shop class in high school was very educational, but also freeing. Dean didn’t need to talk or stumble through awkward conversations. All he needed were some tools and something to fix. His teacher deemed Dean to be a “natural”, and only gave corrections to Dean’s mistakes, if he made any at all. In that particular class, Dean didn’t need any instruction. He is still proud of that. 

So when he went to college, a short stay in an engineering school, he started working at Bobby’s. He finished his degree and helped Sam get into his dream school, Stanford, a whopping 1780 miles away. Dean was proud of Sam, obviously, but he could help the feeling that Sam wanted to get away from Dean’s all encompassing need for him. 

Despite feeling unwanted, Dean took a few days off work to drive Sam out and move him into his dorm. “Call me if you need anything,” Dean said, sounding like a casual reminder, but really it was Dean pleading with Sam to stay in contact -- they only had each other.

“Dean,” Sam was much taller, so he pulled Dean into a crushing hug, and rested his head on his older brother’s shoulder. “I’m not gonna leave you hanging. You’re my brother.”

Dean nodded in acknowledgement, but really only felt pity. “Just -- Just in case.”

Sam pulled away from the hug and Dean noticed his brother's eyes were red and a little watery, but Sam looked away before Dean could really focus on it. “Well, get going,” Sam nodded to Dean’s Impala in the parking lot. “I don’t want you to be late for work.”

Dean scoffed. “My house is five minutes away from the garage. I’ll be fine.”

Dean turned to leave anyway, feeling a large Sam-shaped hole in his chest open up. “Hey Dean?” The older Winchester turned back. “Thank you.”

Dean felt his eyes prickle ever so slightly. He nodded in acknowledgement. “Bye, Sam.”

He got in his car then, and started driving. 

_ It still hurts to think about it _ , He tells himself as he finds a mostly still intact car, lifting the hood to peek at the engine. Half of it is missing. “Alright,” Dean shrugs, blinking in mild surprise. He checks to see if any parts are salvageable, maybe to be sold or put into other cars, but everything is too rusty. He’d have to haul the thing in the garage and clean it before any decisions can be made. 

As he closes the hood, with a loud metallic clunk, he looks through the car’s dirty windshield and sees a form. A human form. Just the torso, a pair of arms hugging it tightly, and the stomach is moving up and down slowly.  _ Okay, whoever is in there is alive. Good news, I guess. _

The person, a man, Dean realizes, sits up. He wipes his eyes, a brilliant blue, and turns to look at Dean. He looks like a deer in headlights, and Dean regards him sort of casually. He figures the man must be one of the several employees at the yard that he hasn’t met yet, despite working there for almost two years. He shrugs and when the man gives him a confused look, Dean smiles half-heartedly, and awkwardly turns away. 

He hears the car’s door open, and out of the corner of his eye, catches the man taking off running out of the salvage yard.  _ Weird _ , Dean thought. He scratches the back of his neck,  _ Maybe that guy  _ **_doesn’t_ ** _ work here _ .

He shrugs it off and walks back to the garage to eat something before getting back to work. He flushes a little -- that guy was kinda cute.

-

“Hey, boy,” Bobby greets Dean. “You look sorta… red. You okay? Feelin’ sick?”

Dean nods. “I saw… a -- there was a guy out in the yard. Dark hair, blue eyes?”

Bobby takes a second to think, cocking an eyebrow. “Was he sleeping in a car?”

Dean nods.

“I think that was Cas then. He takes naps in the cars sometimes,” Bobby sits in one of the corners of the garage, sipping at a mug. Dean doubted it had coffee in it. 

“Does he work in the office?” Dean asks. He figures that if Cas works in the office, Dean wouldn’t see him as much. Or ever, depending on when they took their breaks and their hours. Mechanics and office clerks work different hours, especially because the cars Dean works on can sometimes keep him all night. He rarely goes into the office either, and hasn’t met many clerks working there. 

But Bobby shakes his head. “No, he’s homeless. Tried to give him a job, but he doesn’t like charity.”

“But it’s not--” Dean cuts himself off.

“I know, kid. He’s not exactly stable right now, and he’s got this whole idea about his life in his head.”

“Well, I should -- !” he gets a small burst of confidence before it’s out like a light. “ _ We _ should talk to him,” Dean amends, his shoulders slumping a bit. He usually keeps his eyes trained on the floor, but he spares a small glance up at Bobby, who smiles in sympathy. 

“Trust me, I’ve tried,” Bobby sips and stands with a grunt. “Alright. Get back to work, huh? This car is getting picked up tomorrow afternoon.”

“Y -- yes sir.”

-

Dean sees Cas one more time before he goes home. 

This time, he’s sitting on Bobby’s porch eating half a sandwich. Dean doesn’t hear, but Cas and Bobby have a quiet conversation. He starts to wonder what exactly is being said when Cas sets the sandwich in his lap and watches Dean. 

Dean immediately flushes, looking away and scratching the back of his neck. He decides definitely no talking to Cas -- he’d be too embarrassed to even look at the guy, much less  _ say _ anything. He turns around to avoid the blue eyes watching him, and starts cleaning his hands of grease and dirt. 

After clocking out, Dean passes by Bobby’s porch, eyes on the ground. “Hey Bobby, that car you asked me to work on is done; radiator's replaced and it’s ready for pick up.”

“Great work, boy. Get on home, alright? Sleep tight.”

“Thanks,” Dean smiles faintly. He rubs the back of his neck again before glancing at Cas to find him staring. “Name’s Dean,” He mutters, eyes going back to the ground. 

“I’m Castiel. You can call me Cas.”

“Sure. G’night.” He steals one more glance at Cas, then nods to Bobby. To avoid any further interaction, he ducks his head again and walks to his car, parked in Bobby’s private drive way across the yard. 

When he gets into his house, about ten minutes later, and starts forming a burger out of some leftover beef, he wonders what Bobby and Cas were talking about. It starts sort of hopeful, like maybe Dean could be friends with Cas -- although, on second thought it might not be the best idea -- and after a few minutes Dean ultimately feels worse. 

\---

It wasn’t all bad. Life, of course. 

Castiel had lived a perfectly good life. Aside from, of course, his neglectful parents and abusive siblings -- not to mention his inability to find a purpose in life.

He had finished high school and gone to college, despite not knowing what he wanted to do with his life at all. Depression kind of settled in at a young age and Castiel had never really been happy with anything in life. He just kind of, gave up, after college. He did try to get a job and an apartment -- he also had a boyfriend for a little while but he cheated and that kinda -- at some point Castiel broke. He gave up and dropped everything. Got evicted, fired, the whole nine yards.

He’s been homeless for about two years, ever since his boyfriend kinda, just, ditched him. He left his old city behind and ended up in Sioux Falls. He found Singer’s Salvage on the edge of town and slept in one of the cars for a few days. Bobby found him and tried to get Castiel to come inside, to eat something and maybe talk about what was going on, but Castiel just ran. 

He came back a few days later, because it was cold and the cars were there with unlocked doors and seats to sleep on. So he slept there. And Bobby found him again. This time, he made sure to let Castiel know he wasn’t a threat. He tapped the top of the car with his hand, trying and failing to wake Castiel.

“Hey, kid,” Bobby said it loud enough to wake Castiel, but not enough to scare him. 

Castiel popped up, eyes wide and scared and he turned to face Bobby. “I -- I’m sorry! I’ll leave!” Castiel yells, moving to open the door. 

Bobby kept it shut. “I’m not askin’ you to leave, kid. How about this, you tell me if there’s anyone I can call --”

“There isn’t,” Castiel said shortly. He opened the door again and started to get out. The cool air made him shiver; he pulled his jacket closer around himself. “I shouldn’t have come back. I’m sorry.”

Bobby grumbled at Castiel. “How about you come inside? You don’t have to tell me anything. I just want to give you some food. What’s your favorite kind of sandwich?”

Castiel crossed his arms. “Peanut butter and jelly,” He replied after a moment.

“Alright,” Bobby tried a smile. He turned and walked towards his house, hoping Castiel would follow. When he reached the porch, he looked behind him to see that Castiel _had_ followed. “You got a name?”

“Castiel,” He grumbled in reply. 

“What?”

“Cas,” He amends.

“Alright, Cas,” Bobby opened the door and walked inside. “I’ll get you some bread, peanut butter, and jelly.” He guessed Castiel would insist on making the sandwich himself.

“Thank you,” Castiel grumbles. 

Bobby leaned against the counter and watched Castiel make his sandwich. He didn’t ask anymore questions, and when Castiel finished eating, Bobby let him leave. He made sure to set out a warmer jacket on his porch, just in case Castiel was cold the next time he came around. 

When he checked in the morning, the jacket was gone.  Bobby smiled.

-

Castiel has seen the green-eyed mechanic several times. Recently, a few days ago, Castiel learned his name.  _ Dean _ . 

They hadn’t officially met, and Castiel knew exactly why.  _ Dean had never seen Castiel before _ . And it was made more obvious, when Dean had introduced himself, that he was  _ extremely embarrassed  _ and _very shy_ . 

It almost made Castiel smile, but then a thought came to mind.  _ This is going to be extremely difficult if he won’t even look at me, isn’t it?  _ He started coming to the garage every day, sometimes to sleep, and to talk to Bobby, but really he came to see Dean. He found a spot where he could sit in the grass and watch Dean work without being seen about a week ago.

He’s sitting there today, wearing the coat he may or may not have stolen from Bobby’s porch. Even from this distance, Castiel can see Dean’s face of concentration, the way his lips press together and his eyes squint slightly when he sees a part he can’t quite figure out. Then how his eyes brighten and his fingers start working, taking apart pieces and grabbing tools to work. Castiel could watch Dean work for hours. 

Around noon, Castiel watches Dean walk out of the garage, towards the yard. He’d been doing that every day this week. Today, Castiel decides to follow him and see where Dean goes. 

Dean goes to a car. The same car he saw Castiel sleeping in. Castiel realizes Dean is looking for  _ him _ . He decides not to blush. 

Instead, he sits cross-legged on the hood of one of the cleaner cars. He decides to wait. 

He watches Dean, and knows the exact moment Dean sees him. He knows because Dean blushes, looks away, and puts his hand on the back of his neck. Castiel smiles at that. Dean is so easy to read.

He watches as Dean kicks his boots into the dirt, rubbing the back of his neck. Trying to decide if he should walk over. He runs his hands through his hair, fiddles with the zipper on his jacket, then shoves his hands into his pockets. He nervously moves in little circles, slowly making his way over to the car Castiel is sitting on. 

He stops about ten feet away from the car. His feet don’t stop moving, and his hands don’t leave his pockets. Castiel notices the eyes, the pair of green eyes, staying downcast; glaring at the grass. Dean’s lips move, like they’re forming words, but no sound comes out. 

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel says quietly. 

Dean’s eyes suddenly snap up, and they’re wide. His face is red, so red, and Castiel notices how his lips part slightly on his unspoken words. The eyes go back down to the grass, and the quiet reply comes a few moments later. “Hey, Cas.”

Castiel is very excited by just those two words. He smiles broadly, and doesn’t care if Dean sees it. He doesn’t.  Dean is trying to count the blades of grass around his feet. _That one look was too much already._ His heart is pounding in his chest; his face won’t stop heating up. 

“Are you alright?” Castiel asks quietly again. 

One of Dean’s hands reaches up to his neck, scratching the back of it. “Y -- yeah.”

“Are you nervous to be around me?” Castiel asks, moving his legs to let them hang over the side with his feet on the bumper. He leans forward a bit. “Dean?” He prompts after a few silent moments. 

Dean pants a little bit, and both hands cover the back of his neck. His elbows press together in front of his chest, and he hides his face in his forearms. “M -- maybe,” He replies. He turns his body away and points toward the garage. “I gotta -- I hafta get back to work. S -- sorry…” He looks over his shoulder at Castiel, and gets a glimpse of his smile. He looks away again. “Will you -- are you gonna just… sit -- uh, there?” 

“If that’s alright with you, I think I will,” He moves to scratch his face, and remembers how dirty he must look. “But I -- I might leave.” His eyes leave Dean for the first time. _Maybe it's good that Dean stayed over there..._

“Okay, well I’ve -- I’ve gotta…” Dean trails off.

Castiel nods, one hand still feeling his face. “It’s alright. Go.”

“O -- okay,” Dean lingers for a moment more, but drops his arms to his sides again; he takes a step forward, then backward, then finally turns and leaves. “Bye.”

“Goodbye, Dean,” Castiel remembers to say. 

Dean turns back for a moment, opening his mouth, but opts to say nothing, and goes back to his garage. Castiel sees him cover his face with both hands for a moment, folding forward, then straightens and gets back to the car he was working on.

It takes Dean another ten minutes to fully calm down and get back into working mode, Castiel notices. He keeps covering his mouth with one hand, laughing to himself, and shaking his head. He lightly slaps his face a few times, and that seems to help Dean forget Castiel is there. 

Castiel sits there for a while, watching Dean’s face of concentration and how his fingers move across and through the engine. Dean takes it apart so thoroughly… he cares about every piece, about every tiny wire, bolt, _every little piece._

Castiel smiles a little bit, at how much Dean cares. 

And for the first time in -- well, it must be the first time ever -- Castiel wonders if he’s finally found some sort of purpose.

\---

Dean went to sleep with blue eyes on his mind.  And dark hair. Dark messy hair. And a straight nose. And a pair of pillowy lips. 

Dean stares up at the ceiling and he can feel his face redden. Maybe he shouldn’t _think_ about Castiel either. 

He turns over onto his side and looks at his hands. There’s still dirt under his nails. He forgot to clean them before getting into bed. He groans and rolls again, laying on his stomach.  He doesn’t know what to think about. So his mind starts drifting to that blue again. Blue eyes and dark hair. Dark messy hair. 

He wonders how long Castiel has been homeless. He wonders where he is right now; where does he sleep at night? Especially now that it’s getting cold again. November is almost over.  _ Thanksgiving is coming up and Sam is 1780 miles away. _ So far away and Dean feels all alone. 

_ Anyway, _ Dean reminds himself. It’s getting cold. The leaves are falling off the trees and it’s about time to start raking them. 

_ Where does Castiel sleep? _ Dean asks himself. He wonders what Castiel is doing and -- he stops. Flips over onto his back and sits up. Why is wondering what this random guy he’s only seen three times, talked to barely twice, is doing? Why does he feel … is responsible the right word? 

Why does he want to make sense of some random guy? People aren’t supposed to make sense. But maybe … maybe Dean  _ wants _ to make sense of him? He doesn’t really know. 

He doesn’t really know. There’s never been an exception before. 


	2. Where You Are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Castiel have a talk. Dean gains some confidence, and Castiel learns new information.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this does have a bit of gore, but it's very very mild. it's a bit shorter than the last chapter, but very fluffy. Enjoy! 
> 
> Also: the formatting on the last chapter was kinda weird, but i think i fixed it here! Tell me if you like this better, and I'll try to do the same for the rest of the chapters.

Today is the first day of the weekend. A Saturday. 

Dean wakes up a bit later than normal and he has the weekend off work. He usually doesn’t even leave the house on weekends, unless he needs to go to the grocery, but today he feels something unfamiliar. Something new. 

All week, he had been going to that car, looking for Castiel and yesterday they finally spoke. A genuine conversation that Dean fucked up and is still embarrassed about. He covers his face once again -- despite being completely alone -- and gets up out of bed. 

He realizes that he wants to go look for him again. For Castiel.  _ But _ , Dean wonders.  _ Where is he? _

Dean puts on his boots and a jacket, and opens his front door. There are storm clouds gathering in the distance, and the air smells like rain. He goes back inside to grabs his wallet, house keys, and car keys. 

His baby is in the garage, just waiting for him. He smiles at her, a glorious machine he fixed up himself. Practically built her from scratch when he was 17. 

He opens the garage door and backs his baby out onto the driveway. Once the garage door closes, he pulls out onto the street. 

He accidentally goes the wrong way, turning towards Singer’s Salvage instead of the grocery store. He rolls his eyes, but goes anyway, under the guise that he’s going to see Bobby. He groans at himself,  _ why am I so lame? _

He parks not in the private driveway in the yard, but Bobby’s personal driveway connected directly to his house. After locking Baby’s doors, he walks up to the porch and knocks on the door. 

Bobby answers it, “Speak of the devil! What are you doin’ here today, Dean?”

Dean cocks an eyebrow and replies, “Got company already?”

“Just Cas. Stopped by for a sandwich and a shower.”

“Oh,” Dean flushes and tries not to imagine Castiel naked. “Well, I just -- I’m going to the grocery store and … I came here instead.” His eyes drift to the floor and he adds, “On accident.”

Bobby cracks a smile. “Come in from the cold, boy. Do you want any food?”

“No -- no, I ate e -- earlier.”

Dean steps inside, and Bobby closes the door behind him. They walk to the kitchen together, and Dean stops immediately in the doorway when he sees Castiel sitting at the table. He can see Castiel’s back and the back of his head, and some of the side of his face. 

What he can see looks bruised. And like it might have been bloody at one point, but since Castiel’s hair is wet, Dean guesses he already took a shower. What he wants to do is rush over and pull Castiel’s head back by his hair to see his face; where it’s bloody, where it’s cut, and where it’s bruised. He wants to demand,  _ who did this?! _ so he can give them a taste of their own medicine. 

Instead, Dean’s eyes drop to the floor and he sits as far away from Castiel as he can, at the opposite corner of the table. He folds his jacket over the back of the chair. He picks at his nails in his lap and feels his face heat up and heart start pounding. 

“Hello, Dean.”

“Hey, Cas.”

Bobby leans back against the counter and huffs a small laugh. “Well ain’t you two cute?” Dean whips his gaze toward Bobby and glares. Bobby raises his hands placatingly. “I have some work in the office to do. If you need anything, just holler.”

“Thank you, Bobby. I’ll remember to say goodbye when I leave,” Castiel replies. 

“I know you will,” Bobby smiles, then turns to Dean. “See ya later, boy.”

Dean only nods. 

Bobby leaves and Dean hears the front door close behind him. Then an almost uncomfortable silence fills the kitchen and Dean doesn’t want to break it because he hears Castiel eating quietly. The sandwich is almost gone, Dean discovers after a quick sweep of the table, so he waits before speaking. 

But Castiel speaks first. “You’re still nervous around me.”

“S -- sorta, I guess,” One of Dean’s hands automatically reaches up to cover his neck, and in doing so he covers the bottom half of his face. It helps, and he’s able to suppress his nervous stutter when he says, “I don’t really talk to new people that often.” He bows his head a bit more. “I’m kinda shy.”

Castiel breaks out in a laugh, and when Dean looks up with wide, scared eyes, he stops. “My apologies, Dean. I just -- I noticed that you’re shy. I’m sorry, it’s not hard to see.”

“It’s -- it’s okay,” Dean put his hand down from his neck, only to replace it with the other. “I know.” Dean looks up for a brief few moments, and Castiel’s bruised face. The left eye is dark and the left side of his chin has a large dark bruise, reaching up along his jaw. His left cheek has some light scratches and one that’s a bit too deep for Dean’s liking. Dean points at his own jaw and looks back down, “What happened to you -- to your face?”

“Oh, right,” Castiel turns his head left, hiding the bruises a bit. “I was trying to sleep, and another man in my kind of situation didn’t like that. Apparently it was ‘his spot’, or so he claimed.”

Dean doesn’t know what to say, so he looks up again, but this time looking straight ahead instead of at Castiel. “I’m sorry that happened,” Dean says vaguely, mentally face-palming. “What -- um, Thanksgiving is next Thursday.”

“Yes,” Castiel agrees. After a moment, he asks, “Are you asking me what I’m doing on Thanksgiving?”

Dean drops his gaze again, and nods shyly. 

“Are you  _ inviting _ me to Thanksgiving?”

Dean covers his face with both hands and nods again. 

“You’re embarrassed about this.”

Dean splits his hands so his words won’t be muffled, and he’s able to say a whole sentence without much interruption. “Only because it’s you --”  _ SHIT _ “-- Not to say that I’m -- My -- my brother is at college so this is the first year I’ll be alone.”

_ Only because it’s me? _ “So you want to spend your Thanksgiving with  _ me? _ The holiday about family and being together, and you want to spend it with  _ me?”  _

“Basically,” Dean darts his eyes from side to side. Then looks up at Castiel. “Yeah.”

Castiel looks nervous, maybe even slightly terrified. “Why? Dean, I’m --” Suddenly he stands and steps back a few steps. 

Dean watches him and stands as well, raising his hands placatingly. “Don’t leave, Cas. Don’t -- don’t go.”

“I’m not leaving, I just need some air. Come outside with me.”

“O -- okay. I can -- I can do that,” Dean pulls on his jacket again and follows Castiel out to the porch.

Castiel sits on the steps and breathes in some cold air. “I’m sorry. I just needed some air.” Dean nods understandably, and sits beside Castiel, careful to leave plenty of room between them. “I’d love to spend Thanksgiving with you. I just want to be sure -- Dean, look at me.”

Dean had been staring out into the late morning air, watching leaves fall from trees in the distance. It takes Dean two full minutes to gain the courage to turn his head and look into Castiel’s eyes without covering his face. “What -- what do you want to -- to be sure of?” He asks shakily. 

Castiel smiles calmly, now that Dean is looking at him. He wants to savor the moment, but Dean’s eyes are starting to dart away. “I want to be sure you’re not asking me just because you feel bad for me.”

Dean’s eyes widen and he shakes his head quickly. “I don’t! That’s -- it’s not why I asked.”

“May I ask why you did, then?”

Dean looks away, turning his head forward again so Castiel can see his profile. One of Dean’s hands creeps up to his neck. “I -- I asked because…” He licks his lips and doesn’t know what to say. “I wanted -- I wanted you to say yes.”

Castiel is thoroughly confused, but after a second he gets it. He doesn’t voice his discovery, only replies, “Then there is no way I can leave you alone.”

He sees Dean smile to himself, and when a silence fills the space between them, Dean starts to tap his foot on the stair below him. He holds his face in his hands and looks like he might start hyperventilating or something. “Can -- Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, Dean.”

“If Bobby offered you a job here, at the garage, and a room to stay in in his house, would you take it?”

“Probably not,” Castiel replies honestly.

Dean whips his head over and he looks almost devastated. “Why n -- not? He’s just trying to help --”

“I don’t like taking handouts,” Castiel interrupts.

“But --” Dean cuts himself off this time. He looks back at the grass, still covered with a morning frost, and sighs in frustration. “How long have you known Bobby?”

“Two years.”

Dean looks at Castiel in shock, then covers his face again and turns away. “Then you know how different he is from other people. He’s not going to use -- to use you for money and -- and he certainly will never turn you away.” Dean’s sort of proud at how even his voice came out. He looks at Castiel, with determination in his eyes. “Consider his offer. Please.”

Castiel tilts his head and he wants so desperately to say no, but Dean’s face and his eyes and his words keep him from it. This time, it’s Castiel who looks away. “Why do you care where I sleep?” It comes out harsher than expected.

Dean is quiet for a few moments. He stands and walks down the porch steps towards the driveway, towards his car. “Because,” he says, turning around to watch Castiel. “I don’t want to wonder where you are when i'm not with you.”

His eyebrows crease together like he’s sad, and he turns away to make a beeline towards his car. He gets in and drives away, leaving Castiel shocked, with something warm growing in his belly. 

-

_ Jesus fucking christ I can’t believe I actually said that oh my God he’s going to think I’m crazy what the hell was I thinking _ \-- Dean slaps the sides of his jaw a few times. 

He pulls into a parking spot in front of the grocery store. He hopes that Castiel will take his advice and live with Bobby while at the same time hoping he gets into a car accident on the way home so he doesn’t have to face Castiel after that. 

_ What was I thinking? _ He locks his car and walks inside, hoping that Castiel isn’t waiting for him around every corner to tell him off. 

He sighs as he looks at the bread aisle, thinking, _ I hope he stays with Bobby. _ Because all he wants is for Castiel to be warm and not bruised and not bloody. 

He buys his groceries and goes home. He watches TV and makes himself lunch and dinner and hopes -- practically prays -- that Castiel is still at Bobby’s house.

\---

“Bobby.”

“Hey, Cas. You got somethin’ on your mind?”

“Is your offer to stay with you still on the table?”

Bobby smiles and pulls Castiel into a bear hug. “It has been for two years, kid. Come on inside. I’ve already got a room for ya.”

“Thank you, Bobby.”

“It’s nothin’.”

“Thank you. If not for the room, then --” He pauses and wonders if he should say it. “Then for introducing Dean to me.”

Bobby smiles. “It’s my pleasure, kid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at that. Changing each other for the better. isn't that sweet? 
> 
> And tell me, was the formatting better here than last chapter?
> 
> Anyway, i did say that I'd be posting a bit irregularly last time, right? Thanks for your wonderful comments, and I'll see you most likely at the end of this week. have a great day/night.


	3. Smooth Moves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean asks Castiel on a date (with much difficulty) and Castiel realizes what Dean needs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another chapter for ya!! It's unedited so if you catch any mistakes please let me know. 
> 
> No warnings, just a very fluffy little thing. Tell me what you think!
> 
> Have a wonderful day/night.

Saturday night is the first night Castiel has slept in a bed in two years. 

He is in Bobby’s house, and despite his own reservations about it, he has done what Dean asked. It feels good, now, laying in a big comfortable bed with blankets and pillows and locked windows and a shut door. 

Castiel can finally  _ breathe _ .

He feels like he should have done this from the start. But he hates having to rely on people like this -- He shakes his head and sits up, determined to not think like that anymore. Bobby is helping him get back on his feet, not carrying his dead weight like an optimistic soldier. Bobby is his  _ friend _ .

He lays back down, and after a few minutes of trying to get himself to accept his new situation as a good thing, his mind starts drifting towards something else. Something not so new anymore. 

Towards Dean. With all his shy little glances, his nervous tics, the way he flushes when he finds out Castiel’s been looking at him -- Castiel is completely enamored. His heart starts to beat a little faster and he can’t help the little smile that spreads across his face. 

He dreams of green eyes as rain pours outside.

\---

Monday comes around quickly. 

Castiel still likes to eat on Bobby’s porch, so he goes outside early and sees Dean parking and walking across the yard to the garage. His heart beats a little faster. 

Then Dean sees him. Dean flushes completely red and raises his hand in a small, shy wave before disappearing into his garage. Castiel smiles and waves back, which makes Dean smile and look away.  _ Cute _ , Castiel thinks.

He goes back inside but sees Dean a few hours later, snacking on something and walking towards the house. They meet on the porch.

“Hey -- hey, Cas,” Dean blurts, ducking his head to take a bite of what looks like a ham sandwich. He finishes the last two bites and wipes his hands on his pants nervously.

“Hello, Dean,” He replies. “You came to talk to me.” He sits down on the steps, hopefully to get Dean to either feel more comfortable or to get him to sit as well.

“I feel like -- like I’m always the one who comes over to you,” Dean rubs the back of his neck, standing, anything but still, where he is. “I figured, why make you wait?”

“That was considerate,” Castiel smiles. 

Dean nods. Then he looks at Castiel for a few moments before going back to counting grass blades. “So you’re in Bobby’s house.”

“Yes,” Castiel nods. “I am.”

“There must be a lot of food in there,” Dean says, using his elbow to hide some of his face and looking back at Castiel again. 

Castiel grins, catching on. “There is. Unfortunately, I don’t know how to cook.”

“What do you like to eat?” Dean asks, perking up a little and relaxing  _ slightly _ . 

“I would never turn down a cheeseburger.”

Dean’s eyes suddenly light up and his nerves seem all but gone when he says, “I can make you one!” He looks away again and the nerves flood back across his face. He starts wringing his hands together in front of his chest, “I mean, if you want to come to my house, I could teach you how to make them.” He looks like he wants to say something else, but closes his mouth and watches Castiel for a few anxious moments. “Or I could teach you here…”

Castiel huffs a little laugh, “I’ve never heard you talk so much, Dean,” He says cheerfully. Dean flushes but smiles in return. “I’ve found that most cooks are comfortable in their own kitchens. I’d love to see yours.”

Castiel sees the anxious tension in Dean’s shoulders subside, ever so slightly. Then it comes back and Dean covers his eyes with his palms. “I don’t have anything going on after work today,” He prompts, physically unable to say the rest of the invitation. 

Castiel stands up, now that Dean can’t see him and steps close. He peels Dean’s hands away from his face, holding Dean’s hands and pulling them close towards his chest. At first Dean’s hands are loose, but they tighten quickly against Castiel’s chest and clamp down to his hands. “I’ll be waiting here for you, Dean,” Castiel says oh-so smoothly. 

At first Dean can’t keep his eyes off their hands, linked together and resting against Castiel. Then he looks up and studies Castiel’s eyes, letting Castiel watch as the words hit him. Dean blinks rapidly and somehow his face gets even more red. He nods jerkily, and tugs his hands back. “Um, O -- okay… okay, cool.” 

Castiel tries not to laugh at how utterly speechless Dean is. He takes a step back, out of Dean’s personal space, and replies, “Cool.”

What Castiel was not expecting was for Dean to take a step forward, and somehow be completely unaware that he did so. It took Castiel a second to adjust, and a question popped into his head. 

How can someone so shy -- shy to the point where  _ talking _ embarrasses them -- want to be so close to someone else?

Castiel shakes his head lightly and sits back down on the porch steps. “Well I should -- I only have one car to finish fixing today -- should only take an hour or two… I should get back,” Dean stutters out, backing away slowly. “I -- I’ll see you, Cas.”

But Dean lingers, now unable to look away. Castiel simply raises his eyebrows, and reminds Dean, “You should get back to work.”

“Right, right.” Dean lingers a moment more, then turns and walks away. 

Castiel smiles to himself, and lets his own butterflies take over for a moment. He runs both hands through his hair and lets out a little sigh, “Hahh,” he closes his eyes. 

He opens his eyes again to watch Dean walk, and that question pops into Castiel’s head again. He forms a theory and decides to test it out later, maybe ask Dean some questions.

-

An hour later, Dean is walking towards the porch again with freshly washed hands.

He keeps tugging at his jacket, making sure it’s on straight, and runs his hand through his hair several times, not really to fix it, but to try and calm himself down. He waits on the grass, looking at the windows to try and see Castiel. Dean catches movement in one of the upstairs windows, and upon further inspection, he realizes it’s Castiel, messing with his own hair and pulling on a jacket. 

Dean blushes and looks away in an instant. 

A few minutes later, Castiel is walking down the porch steps to meet Dean in the grass. Dean studies him for all of five seconds, then looks away and refuses to glance back. The reason is because Castiel looks… good. He’s got on a light blue button-up shirt, with the two top buttons undone, a pair of blue jeans, and a tan bomber jacket. He’s also got on these black boots, and that’s what Dean stares at. 

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel smiles, seeing Dean’s reaction to the new outfit. He bought it on Sunday with some money borrowed from Bobby. (He promised he’d pay it back as soon as he got a job -- he sent out applications through the mail and everything.)

“Hey, um, hey, Cas.”

“I see you like the new outfit,” Castiel beamed. It’s safe to say he didn’t miss his old ratty jeans -- with holes that were  _ not _ fashion related -- and that dirty sweatshirt he had from college. 

Dean’s hand was on the back of his neck. “Yeah, I do -- it’s -- it looks nice.”

He started walking towards his car, hoping Castiel would follow. He did. 

They get into the car, Dean behind the wheel and Castiel in the passenger’s seat. Castiel notices Dean’s hand rests on the space between them, palm against the upholstery. Castiel places his hand next to Dean’s, and doesn’t force anything. He just lets the invitation sit there, between them, unspoken. “No one’s ever really cooked for me before,” he says quietly, looking out the window. 

Dean glances away from the road quickly, and his hand moves a little towards Castiel, all on its own. “I’m -- i’m sorry. I hope that -- that my food is good, that -- that you like it.”

“Of course! Homemade meals are practically sacred.”

Dean grins and his hand moves even closer. He only realizes how close when his pinky comes to a rest on top of Castiel’s. He decides to leave it there until Castiel pushes him away or says something. 

Castiel doesn’t say anything. Instead, he flips his hand over and holds Dean’s. Dean doesn’t say anything either, only pulls their linked hands a little closer to himself. 

“So,” Dean says, suddenly feeling conversational and a little more relaxed. “What do you like on your -- your burger, Cas?”

“Well,” Castiel shifts a bit closer, so his arm isn’t reaching all the way across the bench. “I like cheese, lettuce… um, onions, and tomatoes, but not a lot of them.”

“Not a lot of tomatoes, huh?” 

“I like them but they don’t like me,” Castiel explains.

“I’m sorry to hear that. I agree on a lot of that, though. Tomatoes like me though, so I -- i’m in a better po -- position than you, I guess.”

Castiel chuckles. He gently squeezes Dean’s fingers. “I can’t wait to try your food, Dean.”

Dean smiles. 

-

Dean lets Castiel inside through the garage. 

“S -- sorry if it’s messy, I wasn’t exactly p -- planning this,” Dean scratches the back of his neck and leads Castiel to the kitchen. Their hands are still linked, but Dean doesn’t seem to want to let go. But he does, and shrugs off his jacket. He folds it over the back of one of the chairs around the table, and Castiel does the same. “Alright,” Dean’s demeanor sort of changes, from embarrassed to calm. “First step, wash your hands.”

They take turns at the sink, and Dean opens the fridge. He takes out the hamburger meat and starts cutting it up to form it into the burger shape. He heats up a pan, then starts cutting up onions, lettuce and tomatoes. He starts toasting the buns after the burgers go in the pan, and leans back against the counter to watch Castiel. 

“How often do you make these? You must have done all of that work in fifteen minutes.”

Dean uncrosses his arms and flips the patties. “I -- I perfected the recipe in my teens, ‘cause Sam likes them so much. We didn’t have much money to eat out all the time, so I learned to -- to cook for him.” 

When Castiel is silent for what seems like a long time, Dean looks over at him. “That’s wonderful, Dean,” He smiles. He leans closer, watching Dean put the burgers together with his focused fingers. “It looks delicious.”

“I’m glad.”

As soon as Castiel’s plate is set down in front of him, he doesn’t say anything for a very long time. Dean shrugs and eats, too -- he tends to get really focused on what he’s eating too. 

Dean pauses every once in a while to watch Castiel, who is silent, except for a few “Mmm”s and some quiet, “Oh my God”s. 

And soon Castiel’s plate is completely empty, he looks up at Dean and smiles, practically licking his fingers. “You -- you liked it?” Dean raises his eyebrows in a hopeful expression. 

“That was amazing, Dean!” Castiel practically shouts. 

Dean’s face flushes again, and finishes the rest of his burger in one bite. “I’m glad, Cas. I could cook for you more, if you -- if you want that.”

“Obviously!” Castiel replies happily. “If I wasn’t already full, i would ask for another!”

Dean smiles wide, and genuine, and this is the first time Castiel sees Dean looking decidedly  _ not _ shy. He takes great care to memorize Dean’s expression and stands. 

“Where are you going?”

“I was going to sit on the couch,” Castiel points to the living room. 

“Oh, okay. Let me clean up the kitchen a little and we can watch a movie or something.”

Castiel nods and sits down to wait. Dean seems so… calm. Like he’s finally relaxed. Castiel smiles; he’s glad he met Dean. Glad he stopped running away from people who can make him happy. 

Dean flops down next to him after a few moments, and turns on the TV. He puts his arm around the back of the couch, so it’s behind Castiel. He does that when he’s alone, too, but now it feels so right. Castiel presses a little closer, and Dean doesn’t say anything.

Dean gets all flustered again, about twenty minutes into the movie, because he can feel himself drifting off to sleep. He jumps up quickly and drinks some water to try to wake himself up. 

He sits down next to Castiel, sipping at his water still, and leans forward to set his glass on the coffee table. “Thank you for inviting me over,” and a large, warm hand on Dean’s shoulder startles him. 

He leans back, and Castiel’s hand slides down his back a little bit. Dean closes his eyes and turns his face away. “You’re welcome.”

“Dean,” Castiel says his name softly. “Do you not like it when I touch you?”

Dean feels the hand leave his back slowly. “It’s -- it’s not that,” he replies gently. “It’s just … a lot to handle.” 

“Would you prefer it if I didn’t touch you?” Castiel asks, rephrasing the question because Dean’s answer wasn’t exactly... _satisfying_. 

Dean suddenly turns to Castiel, “No!” His eyes dart away again, “I just -- usually when people touch me... it means nothing to them,” Dean squeezes his eyes shut tight. He isn’t just talking about hands on his shoulders now. “But it means a lot to me.”

“It means a lot to me, too,” Castiel assures Dean. “I wouldn’t have done it otherwise.”

Dean opens his eyes again. “Really?” His voice is so soft, so sincere. 

Castiel nods. “Yes.”

And suddenly Castiel is being crushed between Dean’s arms, in a rib-cracking hug that neither man was expecting. But Dean melts into it so nicely, and Castiel realizes exactly what this means. 

Dean loves to be touched. He craves it. 

Castiel is more than willing to indulge.


	4. Not Just Dinner, Is It?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rain changes everything. And dinner becomes more than just dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings! Just the fluffiest fluff to ever fluff. 
> 
> This is also unedited, so it you catch any mistakes, please let me know! I hope you enjoy this chapter, I actually really struggled to write it. 
> 
> Have a wonderful day/night.

Dean is tired.

Not of work. Not of the rain -- which has been going for about three days, straight through Thanksgiving. Not of seeing Castiel at Bobby’s house or around the yard. 

He’s tired of being alone. 

So when Thanksgiving morning comes around, Dean starts making the food he and Castiel will eat together. He blushes a bit, because they finally broke the touch barrier by holding hands and hugging… 

Dean wipes his face and tries not to think about that while he’s got pots on the stove. 

Sam would probably call him a girl for thinking so highly of a hug. Dean would argue it’s more intimate than any sexual touch. But not out loud.

And he really shouldn’t think about this kind of stuff while cooking. 

Dean calls Castiel around noon, asking if he has a ride or if he needs to be picked up. Castiel says he doesn’t; borrows one of Bobby’s cars and drives to Dean’s house. Castiel knocks on the door and Dean opens it. “Hello, Dean.”

Dean looks Castiel up and down subtly, glancing at those black boots, a pair of jeans that hug his legs nicely, and a button up dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hair is a little wet, shoulders dotted with raindrops.

Dean is wearing practically the same thing, but doesn’t mention it; he just grabs Castiel’s arm deliberately. He blushes a little, and slowly pulls Castiel into a hug. “Hey, Cas.” He was expecting Castiel to be surprised, but he isn’t. 

Castiel just hugs Dean back, “Do you like this, Dean?” He whispers it. 

Dean squeezes Castiel a little bit tighter, lifts him up, and walks him inside, kicking the door closed behind him. He can’t say anything, mostly because Castiel is all close and pressed up against him, but also because he doesn’t want Castiel to know the answer. He pulls away slowly, with his eyes downcast, and lets go of Castiel, sliding his hands down Castiel’s back and grazing his sides. Dean steps back very slightly and starts walking towards the kitchen. 

Castiel blushes slightly, and turns to follow Dean. He doesn’t say anything either, but supposes that Dean’s uncharacteristically calm silence is a yes. 

-

While they eat, they talk. 

Castiel doesn’t really want to talk about his family or why he is in Sioux Falls in the first place, and Dean doesn’t really want to talk about the foster homes or his parents. So Castiel asks about Sam. “When did you last see him?”

“A few months ago,” Dean can’t look up. “When I moved him in -- into his dorm.”

“You haven’t called him or anything? You haven’t visited each other?”

“N -- no. I do want to see him, but I -- I don’t want to bother him.”

“I can respect that choice,” Castiel nods. “But you miss him, don’t you?”

Dean nods shyly. “I worry that he -- he doesn’t need me anymore.”

Castiel blinks at Dean for a moment. He can’t believe the words coming out of Dean’s mouth. At first, he’s insanely envious. Dean has a brother who loves him -- Castiel doubts Dean is telling him everything -- and no one else to worry about or to live in fear of. But then Castiel takes a moment, a real, quiet moment to think. 

Not every family is like his. And Dean quite literally has no one else. He ponders for a moment how lonely that must be. 

So Castiel stands up and abandons his half-eaten plate of food to walk around to Dean’s side of the table. Dean looks up at him in total confusion, looking like he might cry from embarrassment or loneliness or both. 

Castiel’s hand rests on Dean’s shoulder. 

“I think you know that’s not true,” He begins softly. “Your brother loves you, Dean. You’re all he has, too, don’t ever forget that. He loves you.”

Dean’s eyebrows crease together and his eyes well up with tears. At first Castiel worries he said something wrong, but when Dean stands up slowly and envelopes him in a tight hug, he feels something. Something shared between them. His arms curl around Dean of their own accord.

Maybe it’s loss or maybe it’s a reminder of how emotionally stunted they both are. But it’s something. It’s a bond. 

Castiel hears Dean trying to stammer something out, “Th -- t -- ugh,” but groans quietly at his inability to do so. His arms pull Castiel a little bit closer, his face moves in a little further, and after a few moments, Castiel hears a quiet, “Thanks, Cas,” against his neck. 

Castiel smiles and blushes a little. “You’re welcome, Dean.” He rubs one hand down the center of Dean’s back as a comforting gesture. What he is not expecting is a tiny whine from Dean, followed by him completely melting into Castiel’s arms. Castiel doesn’t know exactly what to say, or if he should say anything at all, so he just holds Dean a little bit tighter. 

After another moment, Dean taps his forehead on Castiel’s shoulder once, then loosens his arms. His hands slide horizontally across Castiel’s back, resting above his hips for a moment, then pulling away completely. Castiel steps away as well, realizing how calm Dean looks now. 

They both sit down, and before Castiel continues eating, he studies Dean for a moment or two. Dean is more relaxed… so  _ calm _ . “You needed that, didn’t you?”

The blush returns to Dean’s face and he looks at Castiel with wide eyes. Like he’s surprised Castiel understands. “I did.”

Castiel picks up his fork. “Then I’m glad I could give it to you.”

Dean has to look away, but he smiles. “Thank you, Cas.”

They finish eating together, and after packing up the leftovers and cleaning dishes, they sit on the couch. Castiel sits first, and waits for Dean to join him. Dean is watching the floor, biting at his fingers nervously. He wants to say something, and his eyes keep darting towards Castiel’s chest. 

Castiel tilts his head in a silent question, and realizes what Dean is wanting to ask. Castiel opens his arms in a hug and beckons Dean with both hands. Dean immediately lays down next to him -- more... on top of than next to -- and wraps his arms around Castiel’s lower back. Dean doesn’t hook his chin over Castiel’s shoulder, instead rests their foreheads together so they can still watch the movie. 

Castiel tries not to blush as one of Dean’s legs comes to a rest between his own, or at Dean’s hands holding his body so tightly. Castiel has one arm trapped between their chests, and with one knuckle he makes little circles on Dean’s sternum. His other hand holds onto Dean’s bicep. 

Dean is still tired. But this -- this is vivacious. It is interesting, how lively he finds just laying on a couch. How undeniably exciting it is.  _ I don’t feel so tired anymore _ , Dean thinks. He looks at Castiel’s face, at a weird angle now. Castiel meets Dean’s gaze, his eyes big and blue and close. “Hi,” Dean whispers. 

He felt Castiel’s hand leave his bicep, and felt it move to the side of Dean’s face. “Hello, Dean.” Dean ducks his head against the underside of Castiel’s and makes a small squeaking sound. “Are you embarrassed?”

Dean nods into Castiel’s shoulder. 

“Do you want me to sit somewhere else?” He moves his hand back to Dean’s bicep, preparing to push away.

Dean shakes his head and pulls Castiel a little closer, tightening his arms. 

“What are you embarrassed about?”

“I -- I…” Dean doesn’t know what to say. “You’re just so… close,” He whispers into the space between their chests. “I don’t want -- I don’t want you to…”

Castiel waits, but that final part of the sentence doesn’t come. “What? You don’t want me to move?” 

Dean nods. “Stay -- stay.”

“I can stay, Dean,” Dean makes a small whine, and his entire body melts against Castiel’s. Castiel finally slides his arms around Dean, boxing in Dean’s shoulders. 

Dean isn’t tired. But he sleeps.

\---

On Friday morning, Dean wakes up in his bed. And he’s not alone. 

At first he’s a little startled, because there’s an arm draped over his side and he doesn’t remember how it got there. He keeps his breathing calm and gently grasps the wrist to shake it. 

“Good morning, Dean,” Castiel says. 

“Cas?” Dean turns his head to look over his shoulder. “What are you doing here?

“You asked me to stay,” Castiel replies simply. He sits up, wiping his eyes, and shifts to get out of bed. “You sort of dragged me to your bed, and wouldn’t let me go.”

“I -- Sorry,” Dean says quickly. “I didn’t -- I didn’t try to...  _ do _ anything, right?”

Castiel chuckles. “No, Dean. You only wanted to be cuddled. It’s not a crime.”

Dean laughs lightly, then looks down at himself to see that he’s still wearing his jeans and button up shirt, the only things missing are his shoes, but he spots them on the floor. He looks quickly at Castiel to see that he is also wearing clothes. Well, some.

He has on an undershirt, and dark blue boxers. Dean blushes and looks away. 

“I didn’t t -- take your -- your clothes off, did I?”

“No, no. Don’t worry,” Castiel turns away, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and hiding his bareness from Dean -- who is clearly uncomfortable. “I don’t like sleeping in jeans if I don’t have to. You were facing that way so I thought it would be alright.”

“You -- you don’t have to justify yourself, Cas,” Dean says, looking at Castiel’s profile. 

Castiel blinks. No one has ever said that to him before. His family has always demanded explanations from him when he didn’t have any. His brothers used to beat him when they thought he was lying, and especially when he wasn’t. “You’re being serious,” Castiel turns towards Dean again, bending his leg to turn more. 

“Why? Do you thi -- think otherwise?” Dean looks worried, red, and his hand covers the back of his neck.

Castiel shakes his head,  _ no _ . “You’re just so different from…  _ everyone _ else.”

“That’s funny,” Dean reaches over and takes Castiel’s hand, but is unable to look him in the eyes. “I think the same thing about you.”

Castiel couldn’t stop his smile if he tried. 

-

Dean makes breakfast while Castiel takes a shower. 

He, again, tries not to picture Castiel naked. But seeing his bare thighs earlier in the morning is making it really difficult to keep his mind clear. Dean is able to blink the images away, with some considerable effort, and makes two plates of eggs with some leftover ham from Thanksgiving dinner. “Hey, Cas,” Dean knocks on the bathroom door. “Breakfast is ready.”

Castiel pulled on his undershirt before opening the door. He ruffles his hair with a towel and smiles at Dean. “Thank you,” he lets the towel down. “Where should I put this towel?” 

“There’s a hamper,” Dean opens his closet door. “Right inside here.”

Castiel puts the towel inside and walks out of the room towards the kitchen. Dean sits down with him and they eat together quietly. Nothing really needs to be said… well, some things do, but not right now at least. 

Castiel doesn’t need to tell Dean about his family. About his brothers, Michael, Uriel, and Luke, all three of which used to beat him and his twin Jimmy for fun. Jimmy and Castiel always tried to protect each other but sometimes they couldn’t. Towards the end of high school, they couldn’t stand up to their older brothers anymore. They literally counted the days until graduation, then until college moving day. They split up, and it was sad that they weren’t together anymore, but they both felt so empty for so long -- they had no more tears to cry. 

Castiel doesn’t need to tell Dean about Jimmy. He doesn’t need to say how sad it makes him to think about his brother. He certainly doesn’t need to tell Dean that he and Jimmy haven’t seen each other in eight years -- that he doesn’t even know where Jimmy is right now. Or where he lives. 

His fork slowly drops to the table and his head bows. 

“Cas?” Dean asks quietly, to keep from scaring him. “What are y -- you thinkin’ about?”

“I’m sorry,” Castiel shook his head gently. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“It’s okay, Cas. Ev -- Everyone has things they don’t wanna talk about.”

Castiel only nodded. 

“Do -- do you want a distraction, Cas?”

“Sure,” His voice was quiet. But he didn’t feel tears coming anymore. 

Dean gets up, and Castiel follows his lead. Dean goes into the living room, where a stereo, record player and a small bookshelf full of CDs, cassette tapes, and records wait in the corner. Dean picks out a record and puts it on. “It’s called Night Moves,” He says, as the guitar starts to fill the room. “You’ve probably heard of it, but it -- it’s one of my favorite songs.”

He takes Castiel’s hand gently, and places it on his shoulder. Then he holds the other one, and puts his hand on Castiel’s waist. Dean starts swaying a little and the guitar picks up, getting a little louder with some drums underneath. The song was sort of fast, but Dean moved at a slow, calming pace. 

Castiel is still looking down, but starts swaying with Dean. “I like the song,” he says after a few moments, looking up and smiling. 

_ He’s so calm _ , Dean thinks. Dean’s heart keeps beating faster and he can feel his face flushing, but he refuses to look away. Because Castiel needs this. 

“I’m glad,” Dean replies. He lets go of Castiel’s hand and puts it on his empty shoulder, putting his now free hand on Castiel’s other hip. He rests their foreheads together, because he doesn’t want to look away, and he doesn’t want to hide his face anymore. 

Castiel surprises him. 

Suddenly they’re kissing and Dean feels like he just got struck by lightning. Warmth spreads throughout his body and he pulls Castiel in, tighter and closer and kisses back. He can feel Castiel smile.

He’s never been kissed while listening to Night Moves before.  _ I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of  _ **_this_ ** _. _

When they pull away, Castiel is beaming, and Dean doesn’t feel so embarrassed anymore. 

They kiss again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there it is! Finally they kiss! I feel like I've been teasing for so long. Hopefully this chapter wasn't too teasing either. 
> 
> I've noticed my chapters are grouped in twos -- do you like that? I've really just been posting the chapters when I finish them, so would you think I should keep doing that or have a designated day (for example Mondays) for posting? 
> 
> Let me know! 
> 
> Thanks for your kudos and comments. Have a wonderful day/night.


	5. Damn Right, He's Different

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pushing Dean up against a wall has got to be the best thing ever. Especially when he seems all confident now. Well, sort of confident. Still shy -- still Dean. Still beautiful. Still Dean. 
> 
> And words. Words are good too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: sexual scenes, strong language, some sad (sad-ish) backstory things (vague emotional abuse type things)
> 
> There may or may not be a Princess Bride reference here (because i may or may not be to chicken to use the L word -- lesbians or love, you decide.)
> 
> I'd say we're about half way through the story, but I'm still writing as I go. It's unedited, so apologies for mistakes. Have a wonderful day/night.

“Cas.”

“Yes?”

“You kissed me!”

Castiel chuckles in reply. Only because he is literally laying on top of Dean, arms wrapped tightly around his torso, hips lined up together (unfortunately still clothed), with his thighs on either side of Dean’s.

“You say that as if you’ve never been kissed before,” Castiel quips. Then he freezes. He doesn’t know if he should ask, but if he doesn’t it’s going to nag at him all day. “You have… you have been kissed before, right?”

Dean grins, purely for Castiel’s benefit because the other man doesn’t know exactly what the answer to that question entails. “I’ve done a lot more than that,” Dean says, treading the line between sultry and straight-up sad. Sure he’s done things. But it didn’t mean anything -- at least not to his partners. 

“Dean,” Castiel replies softly, catching that unspoken backstory in Dean’s voice. In his eyes. 

Dean shakes his head lightly and lays it back down on the couch. “This is so much better,” He says. “Than anything I did with anyone else. Because -- it’s you.”

Castiel doesn’t have time to hide his face before a blush spreads across it. 

Dean grins again, and after a few moments his expression fades into something more pensive. “Can -- can we talk about that, actually?”

Castiel nods and lifts off Dean a little, deciding to just sit in his lap. Dean sits up, careful to keep Castiel exactly where he is. Castiel clears his throat. For the first time, he looks embarrassed. “So I -- I guess, based on what you’ve told me, I haven’t been with as many people as you.”

Dean looks down, “I’ve only actually -- you know -- with six people. Everyone else just kissed me.” He looks sad. 

“Oh,” Castiel’s list of three didn’t seem so bad anymore, considering what he was picturing in his head. “Well, if we’re counting… Three for me. But -- it’s been awhile. Most people don’t like the whole homeless thing.”

Dean practically flinches at the word. _Homeless_ . What if Castiel just wants some place to sleep? _No, no,_ Dean practically screams at himself. _He’s living with Bobby. He’s not using you. He’s_ **_different_ ** _._

Dean hits himself in the head, trying to knock loose all his dumb thoughts. _Castiel’s not like those girls -- those guys, too -- who just wanted to touch me… He’s different. **He’s not using me**. _

He hits his head again, a little harder than necessary, and grunts in pain.

“Hey! Stop!” Castiel yells. He grabs Dean’s wrists and pulls the hands away from Dean’s head. Forceful, commanding, and exactly what Dean needs to pull himself out of the stupid spiral. “Dean, look at me. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

Dean shakes his head. He knows it’s stupid and if he says it Castiel will laugh at him. “I know it’s not true --” He cuts himself off. 

“What’s wrong, Dean?” 

Dean covers his face with both hands, despite Castiel’s grip on his wrists, and folds in half. He doubles over and his head hits Castiel’s chest lightly. He can’t look at him right now. “I know you’re not -- but I just,” He stops himself again. 

“Dean, if you’re worried, we can go slow,” He lets go of Dean’s wrists in favor of petting his back. “I didn’t really want to get physical too quickly either --”

“It’s not that!” Dean says quickly, a familiar blush returning as he tries to get Castiel to stop talking. Sex with someone special -- it makes the act itself special, and Dean is very shy about that sort of thing. (Face it, Dean is shy about _everything_.) “I'd like to go s -- slow… But -- but I’ll put it as simply as I can.”

“Okay,” Castiel keeps up a hopefully comforting petting on Dean’s back.

“Do you want a relationship with me or… or do you just -- want to _use_ me?” 

The emphasis on ‘use’ throws Castiel off for a second. Then it clicks. Dean is scared. No one has shown him affection like this before. “Dean,” It’s a soft voice but it still sounds like a warning. “Look at me.”

Dean lifts his head. Quickly. 

_That’s new_. “I don’t ever want to make you feel used. That’s not why I’m here.”

“Then why?”

Castiel’s hand strokes down Dean’s face lovingly of its own accord. “Because I met a shy mechanic. He’s too embarrassed to speak sometimes,” Castiel smiles when Dean blushes and looks away. “But I’ve found he’s too special to pass up. Too special not to work to get myself to a better place to --” He swallows nervously and rests his forehead against Dean’s. “To be with you. How ever you’ll have me.”

Dean whines quietly. “I want you to -- to kiss me, please.”

“As you wish.”

\---

It’s late in the afternoon when Castiel leaves Dean’s house. 

He can tell that Dean wants to ask him to stay, either for the night or for the whole weekend, but Castiel knows. If he stays, he won’t be able to say no to anything Dean asks. 

_You want dinner?_ Yes. 

_You want to sleep in my bed with me again?_ Yes. 

_Do you want to fuck me?_ God, yes. 

So instead he gets up off the couch, puts on his boots and goes to Dean’s room to find his button up shirt. “Did I bring a jacket?” He asks once he’s back in the living room. 

Dean shakes his head no, and walks Castiel to the door. He puts a hand on it to keep it closed, trapping Castiel for a bit longer. Castiel turns to tell Dean to stop, but he pauses. Dean looks so calm, so in control, and his eyes are mesmerizing. He looks down, leaning in a little to rest his forehead against Castiel’s. “Thank you for staying,” Dean says quietly. “For talking to me about the -- that stuff.”

Castiel’s hand is suddenly on Dean’s cheek, caressing softly, “Of course, Dean. Thank you for having me.”

Dean nods ever so slightly, licking his lips. Castiel watches the movement and his hand slides to the back of Dean’s head. Their lips press together softly in a (mostly) dry and lingering kiss. Castiel wants to push his tongue forward, but pulls away because he really shouldn’t stay any longer. Not with Dean this vulnerable, not when they spent most of the morning talking like they did. 

But to his surprise, Dean follows, trapping Castiel in a tight hug, parting his lips slightly and trying to breathe Castiel in. _He has to know what he’s doing_ , Castiel thinks. He makes a soft whine, something Dean’s never heard before, and is instantly embarrassed. 

Dean pulls back, his face flushed with embarrassment, but something else too. “I -- I’m sorry,” Dean stutters. “I just -- you’re going to leave and I -- Sorry.”

Castiel takes a second, resting his head back on the door, before speaking. “Relax, it’s okay. I don’t really want to leave either, but I worry that we’ll do something you’ll regret if I stay.”

“Oh,” Dean says quietly. He hadn’t thought of that. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

Castiel chuckles lightly. “It’s alright,” He’s still holding Dean’s neck. “But I think I should leave.”

“When can I see you again?” 

Castiel chuckles again. “So eager for me, huh?”

Dean blushes and looks down at Castiel’s chest, and starts doing up his shirt buttons. “Maybe,” He says quietly. He buttons the shirt slowly, from the top all the way to the bottom. He hesitates for a second, but then tucks the shirt into Castiel’s jeans, starting with the back. His hands are flat, pushing Castiel’s shirt smooth against his ass. “Seems you’re eager, now, huh?” He asks playfully, mirroring Castiel’s sultry attitude, but more tame -- shy.

Castiel tries not to whine, when Dean fingers push the shirt down his pants, moving from the sides to the front. “You’re the one _teasing_ ,” Castiel grumbles, practically panting. He flips Dean around, so _he’s_ pinned to the door instead, and kisses him again. It’s more hurried than before, and Castiel pushes his tongue forward like he wanted to, pressing Dean backwards, _hard_. 

Dean moans this time. His legs bend and reach up a little, for what, he doesn’t know. He realizes when Castiel lifts them up, and wraps both legs around his waist. Castiel pushes Dean up the wall a little bit, and they’re pressed together, closer and closer. 

He moans again, this time into Castiel’s mouth, and tightens every limb around Castiel’s body. “Hahh, Cas,” Dean whines. He kisses Castiel again, leaning forward, and gets pushed back into the wall. 

Castiel starts to pull away, pecking Dean’s lips several times and loosening his grip on Dean’s thighs. “Dean, we shouldn’t -- let go, I have to put you down,” Castiel pushes himself away from Dean more than pushing Dean away. He pecks Dean’s lips again because he just can’t help himself, but eventually pulls himself away. “We should stop.”

“Okay, okay,” Dean untangles himself and sags back against the wall. He leans forward again, this time doubling over and covering his face. “I’m sorry -- sorry, sorry.”

“It’s alright, Dean,” Castiel bends down to pull Dean’s hands away from his face and presses kisses to his knuckles. “Stand up, come on, it’s okay. If anything, _you_ should be upset with _me_.”

“I’m not -- I’m not!” Dean looks into Castiel’s eyes and practically shouts. “Don’t think I’m angry with you.”

“I don’t!” 

“Good! Kiss me!”

“Dean,” Castiel says as a warning. 

“Fine, fine,” He backs off and moves out of the door frame so Castiel can pass through. “Just one more, before you go?”

Castiel smiles and rolls his eyes, indulging himself just as much as Dean. He captures Dean’s lips again, pushing him back again into the wall and reaches for the door knob with his hand. He pulls away quickly, to avoid the trap again, and opens the door. “Dean, Dean,” He taps Dean’s chest with one hand. “Tomorrow, tomorrow I’ll come back.”

After one more kiss, the pair makes it out to the porch, and Dean stays there until Castiel disappears down the street in his car. 

Tomorrow. _Tomorrow_. 

-

Castiel gets back to Bobby’s around dinner time, and after an awkwardly silent meal where Bobby doesn’t ask any questions, he finally gets into bed. 

All he can think about is Dean. His eyes, his lips, his hands, his back, his legs, ah, his ass… his cock. He wants and _wants_ , and since for the time being he can’t touch Dean like that -- or look -- he gets into the shower, in the bathroom off his room. 

The water is hot and he covers his mouth with one hand -- even though he knows he’s usually pretty quiet -- and touches himself. He wonders if Dean is doing the same thing in his own shower, or his bed -- oh, what Castiel would give to see that mess all over Dean. 

He moans, once, twice; unable to take his mind off what he wants. He wants to beg Dean to touch him, or beg Dean to let him touch. But he knows it won’t go over well. He couldn’t handle it if Dean took his advances the wrong way. 

He decides to forget about that -- at least for now -- and focus. Dean’s lips. Dean’s eyes. Dean’s hands. Dean. Dean. _Dean_. 

He comes and has to lean against the wall to stay standing. He’s panting but feeling good. He just hopes he can give Dean something similar. Better. More special. 

He turns off the water and goes to bed. Dean is still on his mind. Castiel wonders for the briefest of moments if his mind will ever be clear again. 

He falls asleep with a pillow in his arms, wishing it was something else.

-

Dean has a similar experience. 

Except he’s laying face down on his bed, one hand between his legs and the other clutching at his chest greedily. Holding himself like half a hug helps a little, but it’s not enough.

He tries to imagine Castiel is behind him, kissing his neck. Even pulls a blanket up over himself, trying to simulate some heat, but all he gets are whines and pleas to no one but himself. 

He whines again, for Cas, “Hahh, please, please,” He moans. “Cas, Cas…”

Dean jerks himself fast because all this whining is getting sad. 

He was right about Castiel being an exception. Not only does Dean _like_ him, he _wants_ him, too. Wants him like no one else before him. Dean’s never liked anyone like this. 

Damn, he just _wants_. 

He turns on his back to finish, and comes all over his stomach. He sort of wants to watch Castiel lick it up. Instead, he reluctantly gets out of bed to clean himself up. 

When he lays back down, he reminds himself. _Tomorrow, tomorrow_. 

\---

Tomorrow finally comes.

Castiel and Dean don’t. Alright, that’s a lie.

Dean opens his front door and Castiel steps inside, holding a bottle of whiskey to share with Dean. “You’re old enough to drink, right?” Castiel suddenly asks, because he doesn’t actually know how old Dean is. They walk to the kitchen and the bottle goes on the table, with one of Castiel’s hands keeping it close to him. 

“You wanna see my driver’s license or somethin’ Cas?” 

Castiel laughs. “Getting a minor drunk is wrong, Dean.”

“I’m twenty two, Cas,” Dean rubs the back of his neck. “But it -- it doesn’t really matter that much, does it?”

“I guess not.”

Dean glances at Castiel shyly. “How old are you, Cas?”

“I thought it didn’t matter?”

“Humor me.”

“Twenty six, if my math is right.”

Dean shrugs. He wasn’t expecting Castiel to be that old -- but at least he’s not thirty six, that would be awkward. “Looks like I’m gonna kiss an old man,” Dean jokes, leaning in to Castiel. 

“I’m not that old!” 

“Shhh.”

The kiss is soft and sweet, and then Castiel has got Dean’s legs around his waist again, and suddenly Dean is laying back on the table with Castiel on top of him. Dean’s legs hug Castiel’s body tightly and his hands roam across his upper back, trying to pull the t-shirt collar this way and that. Tongues are twined together, hands are grasping at anything and everything, and Castiel’s hips are starting to move on their own.

He scolds himself and forces his body to stay still -- _Dean doesn’t want this, we’re not ready_.

But then one of Dean’s hands is between their bodies, unbuttoning Castiel’s jeans and forcing inside. Castiel breaks the kiss immediately, “What happened to going slow?”

“Screw that,” Dean says, confident for the first time. “I want you.”

“Okay, okay,” Castiel tries to process but his mind is slowly turning from a thinking machine to a problem solver, and the only item on the agenda is how to get Dean’s clothes off without separating their bodies. “ How do you -- what position were you thinking?”

“Like this,” Dean squeezes Castiel’s torso with his legs. “But we should go to my -- to my bed, all the stuff is in there.”

“Okay, come here, Dean.” Dean sits up a little, demonstrating a small hint of how flexible he is -- Castiel envies anyone who has gotten to fold Dean in half like the way he wants to -- and Castiel picks him up. He has to rest Dean against a few walls, but they make it to the bed in a few minutes. Castiel laughs a little when Dean lays down -- he pulls off so they can each strip faster -- and says, “Has anyone ever told you that you’ve got bow legs?”

“What? No I don’t!”

“Whatever you say, Dean,” Castiel laughs again and gets in between the bow legs. After another minute or so of kissing Castiel pulls away again. “Are you sure about this? We can wait until later.”

“My mind’s made up, Cas. As long as you promise to stay afterward, I would love to get fucked by you every day.”

“Setting the standard a bit high, aren’t we?”

“It’s been awhile for both of us. Just please, come here before I go and fuck myself.”

Castiel laughs, and it fades into what Dean decides to call ‘The Bedroom Eyes’. Blue and dark with big pupils and parted lips below them. “I’ll come, alright.”

Dean fucking shivers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, that was a Scott Pilgrim reference! And a Princess Bride reference! And a 15x18 script reference!
> 
> So I feel like the boys here are moving kinda fast and if you couldn't tell I wanted to put some misunderstandings drama in there but I refrained! Also cliff hanger because i have finals and this chapter was getting kinda long. Thank you for reading all of my ramblings.
> 
> Comment if you found the Princess Bride reference, and tell me, do you prefer Top Cas or Top Dean? (I like Top Cas, but i just was wondering your preferences.) Again, thank you for reading; have a wonderful day/night.


	6. Missing Persons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something goes wrong. Something always goes wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished this a little earlier than I thought! I really struggled to write it, but I hope you enjoy. 
> 
> Warnings: strong language, sexual scenes, mentions of trauma and abuse.
> 
> I really hope you like it, writer's block hit me very hard. Have a wonderful day/night.

Dean is on his back. 

Somehow his knees are on either side of his head, and he doesn’t seem even the slightest bit inconvenienced. He’s got his arms wrapped around Castiel’s shoulders and his head is thrown back, head against the pillow. Castiel finds this so beautiful. So he mentions it and moans.

“You’re so beautiful, Dean.”

Dean doesn’t say anything because he really really can’t. He is just non-stop moaning and panting and trying to pull Castiel closer to kiss him. “Hahh, Cas,” he manages to moan out, tugging on Castiel’s hair a little bit. “Mmm.”

Castiel bends further forward and kisses Dean as he comes. 

_ Dean is in my arms _ . 

Dean’s asleep now, fingers interlaced with Castiel’s against his chest. Castiel is tired, too, but he wants to savor this moment and hold Dean as close as possible when he falls asleep. His lips are pressed against Dean’s neck when he finally drifts off. 

He dreams of Dean. Not just how he looks this time, but how he feels and sounds too. Castiel can’t get enough. 

He wakes up hard, and Dean is sitting up next to him, watching the TV mounted on the wall across the room at a low volume. “Dean,” He says quietly. 

“Mornin’, sunshine,” Dean smiles and looks at Castiel, watching him so openly. “You slept for about an hour.” Castiel sits up, leaning back against the headboard. Dean glances down. “Do you want me to take care of that for you?”

Castiel’s eyes go wide. Dean has never talked like this before. “Only if you want to, Dean. If you’re sore, I can wait.”

“Pshh,” Dean waves dismissively. “I wanted to use my mouth anyway.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!”

“Okay. Thank you, Dean.”

Dean lifts the blanket for a moment so he can lay between Castiel’s legs. One arm wraps around a thigh, and the other pushes Castiel’s stomach,  _ lay down _ . “Now problem, Cas.”

“Dean, I want to see --  _ oh!”  _

Castiel plunks down onto his back and Dean licks the head of his cock. It’s wet and soft and gentle and rough at the same time -- it’s official, Dean has done this before. Dean’s free hand slides down Castiel’s stomach and wraps around below Dean’s mouth to squeeze gently and tease. 

Castiel moans and groans and his hands tug at Dean’s hair.  _ More, more _ , he doesn’t say. Dean seems to get it anyway and moves his hand lower, to roll and massage Castiel’s balls. Then his mouth is covering  _ everything _ , and Castiel can feel the back of Dean’s throat. “Mmf!” Dean makes noises in between the slurping sounds and sucking, looking up at Castiel through his eyelashes. 

When Dean holds the eye contact, Castiel knows, “I'm close, Dean.” Dean just sucks harder and makes more delightful muffled noises and Cas comes into his mouth. “Ah, Dean… that was -- thank you.”

Dean pulls off and wipes his mouth. “Can we make out for a little while or is that gross?” 

“Get up here,” Castiel replies. 

Dean moves and lays on top of Cas, “That face you made -- when you --” Dean’s eyes trail up and down Castiel’s face. “It was beautiful.”

“Dean,” Castiel says softly. “You said you were going to kiss me.”

Dean chuckles lightly. “I almost forgot.”

Their kiss is sweet and gentle, lazy on Cas’s part -- his body is still buzzing from Dean’s mouth. Lips brush and slide together and tongues lick their way inside, in together. Dean still holds onto Castiel tightly, in a way that makes him feel like Dean is scared he’ll leave. 

Castiel can only hold him back and hope it’s comforting enough. 

He stays the night.

\---

It’s Monday morning. 

Dean parks his baby on the private lot in the yard and starts walking towards the garage. He sees Cas in one of the windows, fussing with his hair in a mirror and smiles up at him. He keeps walking and gets to work in his garage, taking apart an engine. 

The day goes slow. A customer comes up and yells at him for “fixing her car wrong” and another yells at him for “taking all his money”. Dean gets shy again and apologises profusely; it’s not his job to talk about money, he just fixes the cars. 

Finally some quiet comes around lunch time. Dean doesn’t usually eat lunch, mostly snacks on something then makes a big dinner when he gets home. He’ll occasionally eat a sandwich, but today he doesn’t have anything. He leaves the garage to look for other cars to fix or scavenge, and spots Castiel on the porch, reading a book. 

He looks up and smiles. “Dean, you’re here.”

“Yeah, I -- I work here.”

_ His shyness is back _ , Castiel almost frowns. “Dean,” He puts his book down. “Come sit with me. You’re all shy today.”

Dean sits, and his hand covers the back of his neck. His other hand rests on Castiel’s knee. “Got a lotta yelling today,” Dean explains, mumbling a little. “Just kinda tired, I guess.” Castiel comfortingly rubs Dean’s arm, and Dean shyly looks away. “Cas, can I come up to your room after work?” He asks very quietly, eyes watching a customer waiting to pick up his car from another mechanic’s garage.

“Dean, look at me.”

Dean looks. “Can I, Cas?” The hand on Castiel’s knee tightens a fraction and moves onto the thigh a little bit. 

“You’re always welcome in my bed.”

Dean looks up at Cas through his eyelashes -- a look Castiel is learning to love, to crave -- and his hand slides a little further up Castiel’s thigh. “I want you to know, Cas,” Dean looks away. “You’re welcome in my bed, too.”

“I know, Dean,” Castiel smiles. He brings up his hand and touches the side of Dean’s face, brushing his fingers into the hairline. He presses a chaste kiss to Dean’s cheek and pats his shoulder. “You should get back to work.”

“Okay,” Dean nods. “But first, if you’re going to kiss me then kiss me.”

Castiel huffs, a little chuckle. He beckons Dean closer with one hand, and Dean leans closer. They kiss, slightly open-mouthed but chaste, and Dean gets up to walk back to his garage. 

-

Castiel goes inside and the phone rings in the kitchen. “Bobby?” No answer. He goes into the kitchen and picks up the phone. “Hello?”

“Castiel.”

Instant panic. “How did you get this number? How did you find me?”

“You’ve been missing for two years.” The voice is logical and toneless and  _ cold _ .

“No -- I -- I left the city.”

“Yes, without telling anyone, Castiel. You were reported missing.” The voice is ice cold and chills run up Castiel’s spine. 

“I didn’t do anything wrong -- I left! It’s not a crime!” Castiel shouts. “I went to college like they told me to -- like  _ you _ told me to!”

“Castiel, you are to come home  _ at once!” _ The voice hisses on the other line. 

“No, no --”

“ _ Yes!”  _

Castiel tugs on his hair and feels tears coming to his eyes and he’s panting and he’s so  _ panicked _ . “No, no -- don’t call here again,” He slams the phone down and crumbles to the floor against the wall. “Damn it --  _ fuck _ .”

_ Shit --  _ **_shit_ ** _ \-- why now? Why fucking now when I  _ **_just_ ** _ \-- life was good, it was just getting better -- I just met Dean, why now? We just -- _

Castiel keels over in a puddle of tears and anxiety and somehow he’s so grateful that it was just  _ one of them  _ and not all three. Not all three because he could never have fucking  _ handled _ that -- 

He feels it again, the urge to run. To run further away than last time so they can’t fucking find him again --

But Dean. Dean is here. His work is here, his life, everything. 

Dean is here. Here.  _ Gotta stay -- I gotta stay for him. _

Here. Here. 

Stay.

Dean asked him to stay. He needs to stay. Dean asked him to.

The tears subside and somehow Castiel gets himself upstairs and he lays down on his bed. He reflects that he’s only had this bed for two weeks -- not even a month yet and now he has to leave again --  _ no! I’m staying here. With Dean.  _

With Dean. 

He isn’t sure how long he lays there for. There’s a knock at the door. “Hey,” It’s Dean’s quiet, husky voice. “You weren’t on the porch.”

“I’m sorry,” Castiel replies quietly, brokenly. “Please lay with me.”

A weight shifts on the bed and Dean’s arms slide around his body, holding tightly as always. Castiel wants the arms to be tighter. He wants to be crushed. Maybe it’ll distract him from the crushing anxiety in his stomach. 

“Are you okay? Did… did something happen?”

“I -- I can’t -- not right now,” He says so quietly. “Everyone has things they don’t want to talk about.”

Dean hooks his chin over Castiel’s shoulder and kisses his cheek. His hands are flat and warm against Castiel’s chest, and some of the anxiety subsides. Still, the voice echoes in his head. But Dean’s “Do you want a distraction, Cas?” breaks through.

Castiel turns his head a little so he can see Dean’s eyes. Calm and strong and exactly what he needs. “Sure,” He says it quietly again. 

A fire lights in Dean’s eyes and he turns Cas to lay on his back, but keeps his arms around his body. “I don’t think sex right now is a good idea,” Dean says quietly, almost like he’s telling himself. “But I still want to be close with you…”

“Dean, please, kiss me.”

“Are you sure? If you’re not in the mood --”

“Kiss me,” Castiel says more firmly. 

Dean nods -- Castiel is sort of dominating and Dean really really loves it. He shifts a little, so he’s straddling Cas with straight legs, and their chests and stomachs are pressed together a little bit. He sort of wants Cas’s cock in his mouth but right now isn’t the time and he knows that. Instead, he cards one hand through Cas’s hair so  _ lovingly _ that Cas feels like he’ll burst into tears again. (For an entirely different reason than before.)

Dean kisses him so sweetly, one hand still in Cas’s hair and the other slowly sliding around his back in a tight, gripping hug. Castiel’s hands press tightly into Dean’s back. He starts shaking, hands so stressed that they’re shaking right into Dean’s skin. “Cas,” Dean pulls back just a little. “You’re shaking. Do you want to do this? It’s okay, we don’t have to.”

“I know I’m shaking,” Cas’s voice wavers a little bit. 

“Talk to me,” Dean practically whines.

“I do want you, Dean, here, now,” Castiel leans his head back trying to hide his tears. “But earlier, there was a call.”

“Who was it?”

“My brother,” Cas shakes again and tightens his arms around Dean. “His -- His name is Michael.”

Dean catalogs the name. “What did he say?”

“Apparently I’ve been a missing person in my hometown. He wants me to -- to come home.”

Dean hesitates. He doesn’t know why Cas is so upset by that. He tentatively asks, “Why don’t you want to go home, Cas?”

“My brothers --” Cas says quietly and cuts himself off.  _ Brothers _ , Dean thinks.  _ He said brothers _ . “Used to beat me and my -- they used to beat me. I can’t go back there. No, no, I can’t go back there.”

Dean thinks for a moment.  _ Cas and his sister? Brother? Who else did they hurt?  _ This isn’t the time to ask questions about it. “Thank you for telling me, Cas.”

Cas’s face finally flattens, looking back at Dean like before. There’s tears in his eyes and the whites of them are red. The blue pops like this, and the tears well up and roll down his face. “I -- Dean, I can’t go back -- I want --” A sob rips out of his throat. “I want to run, Dean. They found me and  _ fuck _ they’re probably going to get me -- but I want to stay with you, Dean.”

“Cas, calm down,” Dean says kindly. “I’ll keep you safe. You’re with me, you’re safe in my arms, okay, Cas?”

Another sob, “Okay, Dean. Okay.”

Dean hugs him so hard. Tightly. “You’re safe. I’m here.”

“You’re here.”

Dean doesn’t sleep. He makes sure Cas does. 

He doesn’t move until the next morning when his shift starts -- when he  _ has _ to go. 

When he does go, he hugs Cas tightly one more time and presses chaste kisses to his cheeks. “I’ll be back,” he promises. He’s sad, but  _ warm _ . Cas opened up, shared his deepest darkest secrets -- Dean did that before too. They’re finally getting closer, Dean’s sad about how, but closeness is exactly what Dean wants -- needs.

This is the first time Dean feels it. The first time he thinks about saying it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so, we're getting to sort of sad but I promise!!! It's not sad!!! There will definitely be a happy ending, so please don't hate me. Thank you for reading the chapter!
> 
> Tell me, what do you think Dean wants to say?
> 
> Have a wonderful day/night.


	7. His Turn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean decides it's his turn to talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is much shorter than previous chapters! I'm so sorry, i just keep getting hit with writer's block. 
> 
> There are some mentions of abuse, neglect, and some sexual scenes in this chapter.

It’s been a few weeks. 

Dean still feels it. It’s getting stronger, actually. 

After he stayed in Castiel’s bed, where Cas slept and he didn’t, he stayed the night again. He just held Cas, both nights. They kissed and laid close together, and Cas didn’t talk about his brothers again. 

Dean didn’t ask anymore questions. He didn’t know much, but he knew trauma and abuse do terrible things to a kid. He was one of those kids. 

Tonight they’re in Dean’s bed. “Cas.”

“Dean?” Castiel asks, wiping sleep from one of his eyes and turning to face Dean. “What is it?”

Dean wraps his arms tightly around Cas. It’s his turn to shake and tell the truth. Some of it, anyway. “Remember when you… when you told me about your brothers?”

“Yes,” Castiel’s voice wavers ever so slightly. He’s fully awake now. “Do you want to ask about them?”

“No!” Dean doesn’t shout it, it’s quiet and subdued. “Cas, you shared personal things with me.”

Castiel catches on quickly. “You don’t have to tell me anything, Dean. I just -- I was feeling vulnerable that day --”

“Cas, I want to tell you. I  _ need _ to.”

“Dean,” Castiel wants to tell him to shut his mouth and go to sleep.  _ Don’t force yourself to open up just because I did _ . But he finds that he wants to hear what Dean has to say. He wants to comfort Dean, and learn more about him. He wants to know everything about the shy mechanic he cares so deeply for. “Come here, I’m here for you.”

Dean smiles and burrows into Castiel’s arms, pressing little kisses to his neck. Then the little wiggles and moving stops and Dean starts breathing a little faster. His hands clench into fists in Cas’s shirt. “My mom died when I was little. My -- my dad kinda fell off the wagon and he would disappear for days at a time. I had to raise my little brother Sam because Dad wasn’t conscious enough to. He -- he hit me. And when I tried to protect Sam from him, he hit me harder. And more. He wouldn’t let us go to school, wouldn’t let us leave the house and he didn’t make enough money to keep us fed sometimes. When we got kicked out of the house, he tried to get us to live in motels, then the car, then just on the street.”

He took a few moments to calm his anger. Castiel rubbed his back and kissed his neck soothingly. “It’s okay, Dean. You’re here.”

“We -- we lived on the street for a year, maybe? Sam was only five -- he didn’t know what was happening -- and I had to keep a tight hold on him because Dad said, ‘don’t leave him out of your sight.’ We were just fucking kids, man. And we didn’t know what was happening. Then one day these guys in suits came up to us and Dad was just fucking passed out on the sidewalk -- they just took us. And I haven’t seen my dad since I was nine. He never even --” Dean pulls Castiel in closer, tighter. “He never tried to get us back.”

“You went into the system,” Cas connected the dots. “You still had Sam, right? Stayed in contact, at least?”

“Yeah -- yeah, they kept us together. But a lot of foster homes don’t really like siblings, so, we -- we moved around a lot. But we were together.”

“At least that’s something good.”

“I guess.”

“You still think he doesn’t need you.”

It’s quiet for a few moments. “He doesn’t.”

“Dean.”

Dean grumbles. “Fine,” He snuggles in a little closer to Castiel, and tangles their legs together. “Cas, can you -- will you touch me, please?” 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

It’s quiet for maybe two minutes. Dean’s body stops shaking and he pulls back to look at Cas’s eyes. “Yes, please, touch me,” Dean practically begs. He could really use a distraction. “You’re here, I just -- I want to be with you, now,  _ please _ .”

Castiel shifts immediately, turns on his side so he can put Dean on his back. “You’re beautiful when you beg, Dean.”

The Bedroom Eyes.  _ Yes _ . “Please, please,” Dean runs his hands down Castiel’s chest and in response Cas shivers, and his cock stirs immediately. “Please touch me, I need you, Cas.”

Castiel leans down and kisses Dean, soundly and pulls him closer and closer. “Take off your clothes, Dean.” He pulls away and gets off the bed. He takes off his clothes quickly and rifles through Dean’s drawers for lube and a condom. “Do you want my mouth?” His eyes darken ever so slightly, and he glares at Dean like he’s something to eat.

“Oh, Cas,  _ please _ .” 

They kiss again and Castiel leans down, getting down between his legs. He gently licks, then takes Dean into his mouth. He sort of hesitates, worried about overstimulation, but starts using his fingers. It’s gentle, and he uses only one finger at first. 

Dean shouts but pulls on Castiel’s hair, asking for more. But Castiel draws away and grins, “So commanding today.” He pulls his fingers away too.

“Wait, don’t stop!” Dean tries to tug Castiel closer in a kiss, his hips searching for those fingers. “Please?”

“You want me to touch you, don’t you? You want me inside you, Dean?” Castiel’s grin is almost evil. 

Dean blushes furiously and nods, his eyes wide and locked in a stare with Cas like he absolutely refuses to look away. “Please?”

Based on Castiel’s expression, Dean was expecting rough sex, but no -- instead he gets the most tender love making with languid kisses and gentle touches and Dean? Dean feels so wanted. 

-

“I think I should call Sam."

“Dean, that’s great!” 

Castiel is on Dean’s couch, reading. Dean’s sitting on the floor, looking at his phone, turning it on and off over and over. “Christmas is soon,” Dean explains. “And he hasn’t met you yet -- I think we should have dinner or something.”

“I’d like that, Dean.”

“I’ll call him,” Dean says, courage fleeting quickly over his impulsive suggestion. He gets up and goes into the kitchen. His fingers are shaking when he presses the call button. 

“Dean? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” Damn it’s so good to hear your voice. I’m sorry I haven’t called sooner. “I just -- Christmas is next week and I wanted to know if you --” Dean pinches the bridge of his nose. “Do you want to come home for Christmas?”

“Dean, I’m getting on a plane tomorrow. Do you not listen to your messages?”

“No, they -- they stress me out, Sam.”

“Well I didn’t know that. Why did you feel like you had to ask me to come home?”

“I don’t know, I just -- I thought that maybe you were having fun at school and didn’t want to --” he cuts himself off. He shouldn’t be thinking like that anyway. “I don’t know.”

“Well, I’ll be there tomorrow night. Will it just be us for dinner?”

“Um, no. My -- my boyfriend is eating with us, too.”

“Oh, right! Bobby told me about him. His name is Cas, right?”

Dean’s voice is quiet. “You talked to Bobby?”

“I gotta get my news about home from somewhere,” Dean can picture Sam shrugging. _Home_ sticks in his mind.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” 

“Sure. Night.”

Dean hangs up and turns to see Cas standing in the doorway. “How did it go?”

“He’s already on his way -- I didn’t really have to ask,” Dean feels himself tearing up. 

Cas immediately pulls him in for a hug. “What’s wrong?”

“I just thought -- I don’t know,” Dean rests his forehead against Castiel’s shoulder. “It’s nice to know he’s been thinking about me just as much as I think about him.”

Castiel draws back and smiles. “See, I was right. He loves you, Dean.”

Dean feels something surge in his chest. “You’re so perfect, Cas.”

“I could say the same about you.”

Dean laughs. Not in a self deprecating way like he thought he would. It’s warm and perfect and Cas kisses him and Dean wouldn’t give this up for the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to deprive you of new content for so long!! I really struggled writing this and I don't reallt like it all that much. I decided to post it before it was really ready, but i don't know, this chapter didn't really have much going for it anyway. 
> 
> I'm thinking this will end up being about ten chapters. i hope you enjoyed this, sorry again that it was so short and kinda bad. 
> 
> Also, Happy Hanukah and Merry Christmas! (As a fellow Jew I hope your candles burn long :) -- even though I am very late to the party)
> 
> Have a wonderful day/night.


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